Façade
by Hystericaled
Summary: Many people are not who they seem to be. Many true intentions are hidden behind layers of lies, layers of assumptions. And sometimes, many feelings still linger even when they are thought to be dead. When the only way you feel you can survive is to seek vengeance, when the only way you can meet her again is to seek immortality, what would you do? Vold/OC
1. Chapter 1

This is not a one-shot by any means. I hope that the characters would not be OOC, I'll try my best, but I promise nothing. .

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, except for the OC. **

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Full summary: Many people are not who they seem to be. Many true intentions are hidden behind layers of lies, layers of assumptions. And sometimes, many feelings still linger even when they are thought to be dead.

When the only way you feel you can survive is to seek vengeance, when the only way you can meet her again is to seek immortality, what would you do?

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

_(About 57 years ago…)_

_Tom's hope dropped to the pits of his stomach as he saw her pale form surrounded by them. For the first time, he felt a slight hint of fear grip him, but he mentally pushed it away. They wouldn't do much, he reasoned, at most, they'd just mock and throw insults at her. He would reach her in time. _

_The muggle children gathered, forming a semi-circle around her, blocking her escape. In the slight drizzle, her flimsy sandals slipped on the wet rocks of the cliff with every step that she retreated, but she still managed to remaining standing upright. From far, Tom couldn't make out if she was crying, or if it was just the rain._

"_Just go away already! Stop contaminating the air that we breathe!"_

"_You are such a freak!"_

"_Freak."_

"_Freak!"_

"_FREAK!"_

_He could hear their shouts and chants escalating in volume and frenzy, and that fueled his determination, giving him the strength to force his tired legs us the steep slope of the cliff. With every step he took, his breath came out fast and shallow, forming small puffs of vapor in the cold air. Physical tenacity was never one of his strong points._

_He gritted his teeth in anger as he recalled warning her not to go anywhere alone, more specifically, anywhere without him. The muggles were scared of what they do not understand, and that included them, people with magical abilities. She was foolish to have gone out on her own, foolish to have not heeded his warning._

_The others had already cornered her at the edge of the cliff by the time he reached, and they were laughing as they pelted her with the stones in their hands. Anger festered within him as he started towards the group. How **dare** they, he'll make sure to break every single one of their scrawny little neck-_

_And then, it happened._

_One of the larger rocks caught her on her head and she stumbled backwards. But she was already at the edge of the cliff. There was nothing else to step on. Tom's eyes widened as he wanted to run to her, to shout for her to be careful, and to jump after her all at the same time. But there was nothing he could do. Because, unlike in the shows, time did not move in slow motion as she tipped backwards._

_Her body formed a fleeting, momentary arc above the waters, and then there was nothing. Like a rag doll cut loose from her strings, she just fell._

_At that instant, the air grew colder, seemingly dropping by several degrees, and more frigid. A sudden wind picked up and howled around in all directions. The slight drizzle turned icy and torrential, as if the sky was mourning. A distant thunder rumbled and lightning snaked across the sky as ominous columns of dark clouds rolled in. Down below the cliff, the crashing of wave were suddenly louder than usual. _

_It was as if the Gods were angry._

_There was no screaming, Tom was numbly aware. Nothing to indicate her fall to death, except the splash of water hundreds of feet below._

_An uncontrollable level of fury clouded his vision. Magical energy crackled around him, the salty air heavy with power. He did not bring his wand. He was proceeding on to his second-year, and wasn't allowed to practice magic in the muggle world. But right now, he did not care. A wand wasn't needed. His emotions are sufficient enough to be a proper substitute._

_By the time the muggles noticed him, it was already too late. With a wave of his hand, it was as if a massive force struck them. The first boy was lifted off his feet and hurled from the cliff into the turbulent waters below. With a second wave of his hand, another went down. And another. And another._

_Soon, he was the only soul left standing on the cliff. Laughter bubbled up within him, and he couldn't stop the maniacal sound from escaping his lips. It echoed all around him until it was the only thing he could hear. Then, it stopped._

_He landed on his knees heavily as he hit the ground with his fist. This wasn't meant to happen. She shouldn't have died._

_**_' _**__**_**Ho scritto una storia d'amore senza inizio e senza fine...per scriverla con te.***_**_ ' _Wasn't that what they had promised each other? That they'd write the story __**together**__?_

_Tears flowed down his face as he allowed himself to indulge in weakness for once. He remained in that position for a length of time, with the cold rain soaking into his clothes and seeping into his skin, before he finally stood. Up. His eyes shone with dark emotions. Throwing his head back, he let out a shout of despair that echoed louder than his laughter, raw and sorrowful emotions all convey in one motion._

_On that day, he swore revenge on the muggles for causing her death._

_That was the only day that Tom Marvolo Riddle ever cried and truly mourned the death of someone._

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

*( __I have written a love story without a beginning or ending...so that we may write it together.__ )  
>The phrase is Italian, well, cause I wanted to use something other than English. ~.~<p>

Please review to tell me what you think of the starting~! ^^


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, except for the OC. **

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

The crackling of the fire in the hearth was the only audible sound. Shadows danced about the silent and scantily furnished room, the orange glow flickering constantly. The warmth of the fire however, was not enough to overcome the chilly atmosphere that seemed to emanate throughout the room. A single man sat in an armchair faced away from the door, the dancing flames reflected in his piercing crimson eyes.

Voldemort rested in the armchair with Nagini on his lap, a thin skeletal finger slowly stroking the snake as the dark lord remained deep in thought, a frown etched on his face. Again that memory. His lips thinned disapprovingly at the reminder of the past. It might have been 57 years, but try as he might, he never could truly stop the flood of memories every time he was alone.

"_What do you believe in, Tom? Do you think there is life after death? I like to believe in reincarnation."_

"_Hey, Tom. Look at this snake. She is so cute! Let's keep her as a pet. It'll be our little secret, okay?"_

Voldemort's hand slowly caressed the snake, and she gave a small hiss of contentment. She was the only physical reminder of her, which was why he pampered only Nagini, as if in place of her mistress. Though, he'd admit, he was uncharacteristically afraid for a split-second moment, fearing that perhaps making her one of his horcruxes might have inadvertently harmed the snake, but it seemed that his worries were for naught, seeing as Nagini actually grew closer to him...

A soft knock on the door of the room broke his train of thoughts.

"Come in." His voice was high and cold.

The mahogany door swung open as a cloaked figure slowly shuffled in with measured steps, his head already bowed towards the ground. "My lord," the death-eater said nervously. "I hope that you are in good-"

"Spare me the formalities, Yaxley. Report."

Yaxley gulped nervously as he hurriedly gave Voldemort the latest news. "Dumbledore is dead, it have been confirmed. Snape killed him himself with the killing curse. Apparently, the burial ceremony will take place tomorrow."

"I see," Voldemort murmured softly, steepling his finger together. "So, the old fool is dead... And what of Snape?"

"Snape have retreated to the safe house near Hogsmeade for the moment, as you have instructed. The necessary cover ups have been done, my lord. Everything is proceeding smoothly."

Voldemort smirked. Of course, everything was going as he planned. And why should it not, after all, when he was The Dark Lord himself. The old man would have died either way, though it was a pity that the Malfoys managed to escape the full burn of his wrath this time, but nevertheless, it was a victory against the old man, and he planned to savor it. The problem of the Malfoys can wait.

In fact, he would have gone with his forces to Hogwarts for the ceremony tomorrow, perhaps to mock the man known as Albus Dumbledore more, but tomorrow, it would be that time of the year again...

13th of June. Her anniversary.

And nothing else could be more important.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Okay, this time, I really need response. There are somethings that I have not yet decided about the OC. No, it's not the name.  
>I was just wondering if I should let her be, for the lack of a better word, other-worldly. As in, supernatural, but in the aspect of angels and devils, that kind of things.<p>

So please review and reply~!


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to those who reviewed! :D  
><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, except for the OC. <strong>

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Well rested, Voldemort strode out of his room with purposeful strides, black cloak encompassing his ever frail looking body. By his leg, Nagini was slithering after him at a lazy pace. As he neared the Malfoys' hall, the great oak door silently swung wide open with a mere flick of his wand. Instantly, all discussions, all murmuring, stopped upon his entrance into the hall.

Every eye was on him as if drawn by an unknown force and something prevented them from tearing their gaze away. As Nagini curled up comfortably beside a chair situated at the head of the long table, the death-eaters hastily stood and bowed respectfully to their master. With a lazy wave of his hand, Voldemort dismissed their greeting and they sat back down.

The Malfoys' manor usually change their décor, and today, the floor-to-ceiling windows were covered with curtains of deep shades of scarlet, and the marble walls black, Voldemort blandly noticed. The wall was adorned with an art piece, an abstract painting of a house situated by a turbulent river that reflected the waning light of the moon that hung in the sky that was mapped with stars, something he considered an improvement compared to the rather tasteless sight of a stag's head he saw previously. However, rather than note the décor of the manor, there were more pressing matters at hand.

He took his time to slowly consider the death-eaters. As usual, the room was filled to the brim with a flurry of emotions that failed to be hidden.

Excitement. Respect. Adoration. Reverence.

_And nervousness. And __**fear**__._

His crimson eyes drifted to Lucius. Oh yes, Voldemort knew that there were those amongst his ranks that followed him not out of true loyalty but out of fear. However, as long as they prove to be useful, the dark lord was willing to let it slide.

He pulled the chair back before taking his place at the head of the table, Nagini lounging beside him. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, his thin lips twisted into a cruel smirk. He could feel it in the disturb air that seemed to be teeming with activity.

There was a disturbance, a change, a _**shift**_ in the balance of magical powers, and it was as if a restraint has been removed and now the dark powers are now free, surging through the very air around them.

He could feel it in the air. Dumbledore's magic -_good, white, __**pure**__ magic_- was gone, his life snuffed out.

Ah, this just goes to show that he was truly dead.

"Alecto, you are to find Snape and carry out the plan. You know what to do. I want Hogwarts under my control by tomorrow midnight. Report the situation to me when you are done."

Alecto murmured his understanding.

"Bellatrix, I'm sure you remember the item that I passed to you previously, the one that is of great importance to me. I require you to remove it from your vault, and I want it to be within the safety of these walls by tonight."

A grin formed upon her face as Bellatrix eagerly nodded her head at the important task entrusted to her. She won't let her lord down.

"And the rest of you, my good friends, spread the word. Let everybody, the giants, mermaids, wizards witches, and even gnomes if you will, know that _Dumbledore is __**dead.**_ That a similar fate will befall them, should they chose to oppose my rule."

"As much as I would like to rejoice for the death of that muggle-living fool, there is something else that I must personally attend to. It is crucial that I remind you- "Voldemort's eyes scanned his followers carefully, and some of them visibly shivered, "-that only under the most important, most _dire_, circumstances, that you are to summon, to call for me. If this expectation of mine is not met, the offender will rue the day he was born…"

Voldemort let his voice trail off as he watched his words sink in. The death-eaters were speaking in low voices, saying that they never dare dream of going against his will. Satisfied by their response, Voldemort stood up, a signal that this meeting have ended, that this was yet another meeting they have all managed to live through.

He strode through the elaborately decorated garden, and Nagini slithered after him. A few more steps and he'd be able to apparate himself -and Nagini- out of this place. The moment he stepped out the gate, Nagini lunged at him, and in the same moment, he spun deftly on the spot.

A loud crack, and he was gone.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Standing atop the cliff, Voldemort looked at the sea below, hardly aware of the droplets of water that rained down on him. It has always been the same. Every time this day arrives, he would come here, if his current condition allow. One time, he even went to the extent to ask Wormtail to leave him for a little while, just so that he could make his way, and at least spend that single day in this place.

And every time, it never failed to rain. Just like that fateful day that haunts him, even now.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Somewhere, in a small sea-cave at the base of the cliff, a body stirred. The crashing of the waves was loud and filled her ears. And for the first time in 57 years, she took her first breath and opened her eyes.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Yay~! Thanks to Avrilavril for replying! Love ya lots! :P So far, I think the story have been progressing quite smoothly, but ofcourse, if there is anywhere that needs correcting, just tell me. Please review! :D 


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for late update! Was busy trying my best to stay alive. :/  
>Thanks to those who reviewed! :D<br>**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, except for the OC.**

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

The moment she opened her eyes, she instantly shut them again. This feeling, the feeling of sandpaper against her eyes, she felt it after every awakening, but it was not something that anyone can get used to. Trying to ignore the pain, she opened them slowly this time, her eyelids pulling back to reveal gunmetal grey irises. Her eyes darted around, as she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness.

Her throat felt dry and parched, and when she tried to speak, it came out raspy. It was as if she hadn't used her voice for a long time. Which was not far off the mark, she thought bitterly.

After a few tries, and a few falls, she managed to push herself up to her feet, using the wall as a support. Her muscles felt like dead weight, as if the mere thought of exercising them were alien to her.

She breathed in the cool breeze. With the sounds of waves lapping against the opening of the cave, the taste of salt heavy in the air, it would not take a genius to tell that she was in a sea-cave.

Resting till she had enough strength to move around properly would be the best idea, but she had to ascertain her location. That, and the fact that the water that was lapping at her feet was a signal that the tide was about to come in, meant that instead of resting she had to get out of the cave first.

It was impossible to apparate into Hogwarts, what with the enchantments in place, so she had to go with the next best option, Hogsmeade. She needed a place that was familiar to her to start off. Because, an endless amount of questions was plaguing her head, and none of which she had an answer to.

She knew that she would be alive again, although she would rather it be otherwise. As much as she hoped that she would finally be dead for good, it seems that she came back once again. But this time it was different, unlike the other times.

This was supposed to be her fifth reincarnation. That was how it worked. She died, but she would be reincarnated over and over again, 60 years after her death. Live life all over again; grow from a toddler to a kid, from a teenager to an adult again. But even if she lived more than 27 years old, she would stop growing. Meaning that as long as she lived past 27 years old, she could live for decades and centuries, but she'd still look 27. And if she was killed at any point of time she was alive, then 60 years from that day, she'd come back as a new born in yet another new unknown family.

Some call it immortality, but she knew it for what it truly was. A curse.

But this time was different. As her hands ran over her arms, trying to keep warm, she felt the strap of the dress she was wearing. It was only then did she register the thin clothing that did little to shield her from the cold wind.

A hazy memory flashed. Her standing on the cliff in her overly long dress, sandals slipping on the cliff. Rain all around her, people circling and she had nowhere to run. Then the pain when the stone connected with her head. The fall. Then the drowning.

She is sure. She had died that time.

Why was she brought back to her previous life instead of being born into another family, she did not know. And there was only one person she could go to for the answers that she wants, but he was dead.

First things first, she had to get out of this place. And get new clothes. While she had died and came back to life, her body was that of a 27 year old. It was as if she hadn't died, and had instead lain there all the time ever since her fall from the cliff. Which meant that it may have been at least 27 years or more since that day. Which also meant that she needed new clothes. Because, while she has grown, the clothes did not, and the dress was now too short, the wet hem plastered against her thighs.

The image of Hogsmeade surface from the messy haze that was her memories, and she focused on that, spinning on the spot.

The crashing of waves did not fade, and the water was now lapping at her knees. She frowned. Had an enchantment been placed over Hogsmeade? The last that she know, it was open to all. It was either that, or that this place was the one enchanted. Either way, it meant that she had to get out of this cave through other means.

Sighing, she waddled to the front of the cave, concentrating on not letting her knees give way.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Thunder rumbled, yet the rain did not get any heavier as he would have expected. The cold air shifted, and the icy sea breeze blew inland with greater intensity. The winds. It was the winds that have changed. As if screaming something. As if trying to tell him something.

_Just like it's warning that day, how hard it blew, how it changed, how it mourned when she died. _

Something was not right, something was amiss. Perhaps someone else was here? But it was impossible. He had cast an enchantment over the place. Any muggle that approached this place would suddenly have a reason to go away, for a sudden appointment, for something that they have left at home. And in this place, he had made it impossible to apparate directly out or in here. The only way was to apparate to the open field further inland from the cliff and then walk here.

Red eyes slowly opened, as he scanned the area around him. But there was nothing that has changed, as he'd expected. The cliff was deserted, all except for him. Still, Voldemort wasn't sure how he knew it. It was just an innate feeling, that this time, some thing was _different_.

However, he was never one to trust in instincts. Him, he went with his knowledge, and that was what kept him alive so far. Yet, still, he could tell that this was unlike any of the other times when he went there. He felt compelled to go search for her, again.

But what was the point, a sardonic voice spoke up at the back of his head, for about 56 years he have been searching, and all for what? She was still gone. Even if he searched, he would return empty handed.

_Like always…_

What Voldemort had mock the world for having, the useless hope that they have even when all is lost, how could it be that he is similar to them in this way? Behind his eyes, anger blazed as he forced himself to ignore the _foolish_ notion of fruitlessly searching for her again. That he even came here is a weakness, he berated himself. An attachment that is now meaningless. Still he knew that next year, he would come again, and the place would not have changed.

That he would continue to do so for the rest of his life.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

She cursed as her fringe got into her way again. Still, even though her muscles screamed at her to stop, she pushed herself, grabbing at the rocks on the side of the cliff and pulling herself up. The first place she had to be in, and it was a sea cave at the foot of a cliff that was too high.

With her luck, there may just be a group of giants at the top of the cliff waiting for her. But time was of essence. It was always better to know where and in what timeline you are in as soon as possible. She hurriedly made her way up, as she indulged herself in the prospect of a well deserved rest after all the climbing.

And all too soon, she was near the top of the cliff.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, as frustration grew within him. Frustration at himself. He, Voldemort, _The Dark lord_, was hesitating? _**He **_was wavering? Most of his thoughts were dismissed. He lived by his own rules, and decided what is right for himself. He had promised on that day, and by Gods, he'd stand by it even if it kills him.

Only because it is her, the voice whispered, before Voldemort shut it out.

As he continued to stand there silently, the instinct roared to him that this time, for real, he would find what he wanted.

_That he would find her. Her graceful form, her contagious smile, her occasional clumsy self when she was dancing. He would find it again._

Stepping to the edge, black mist curled around him as he let his magic work before stepping off the edge of the cliff.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the edge of the cliff two bodies moved, each toward the opposite direction, as if they were born to deny and defy, defy and deny. That they should struggle, that they should resist. Clash and collide. Challenge and emulate until both stood on equal yet uneven grounds.

And the gods were cruel still.

Their movements were frighteningly synchronized, one climbing, pulling herself up onto the cliff, another rushing down, floating towards the sea. And with that, they made a tacit, silent pact that neither will know about until they meet again.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Okay, so there was somewhat a major revelation here, but that's how the story goes.  
>I hope that you can tell me what you think, please review~! :D<p> 


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